Glenn Beck Commands Tea Party Not To Play Dress Up

HERE is an interesting article (with a video of Glenn Beck’s FOX show on the 15th of September) where Glenn Beck is softly, and carefully, giving orders to Tea Party members (as an outsider) to knock off the funny outfits and stop bringing the ridiculous signs to the Tea Party rallies.

Come on folks, you’ve got to stop looking bat-shit crazy so that the people of America will see a legitimate movement that cannot be pigeonholed as just another silly group of whackjobs.


Rand, Rand, Rand

So senate candidate Rand Paul (R-KY), has a plan for fixing the deficit, and a budget too. But he says that he will not be talking about it until after the elections.

Okay, Rand, so you are telling the voters of Kentucky, that they should vote for you without knowing what you are going to do/for them?

That is like buying a horse without taking it for a canter. Like buying a car without kicking the tires, or checking the dipstick for metal particles.

Sounds reminiscent of when John McCain during the presidential debate exclaimed that he knew how to get bin Laden. John made it sound like he had his cave address or, at a minimum, had GPS coordinates. So, now that the elections are over, and John McCain didn’t win, why didn’t he go to the DOD and clue them in on how to get bin Laden? Why? Because he was lying. He has no idea on how to get bin Laden. He just said that to help his election chances.

. . .

So, Rand Paul, you got a plan? Let’s hear it.

Just as I thought! There is no plan!

He is just lying to improve his chances of getting elected.

Come on people of Kentucky. You wouldn’t, really, vote for this guy, would you?


Polar Bears Are Not Vicious Killers, Humans Are

I sure do enjoy commenting at Huffington Post. The comment area can get interesting now and again. Often, I run to the end of a comment and realize that I need more room and more speedy fingers (yes, about 20 or 30 would do nicely). But, I know that the comment box only allows 250 words, and I cannot lay down my thoughts, on a fast moving thread, fast enough so that the comment will appear anywhere near the top, unless, of course, my comment is the root comment, and thus will always appear near the top, unless the comments are moderated (which is another issue altogether). So, I guess I have to write what I really wanted to say here. So, here:

This is a short transcript from a blog called “Nissan Leaf’s Strangely Moving Polar Bear Ad (VIDEO).” (First Posted: 09-10-10 05:17 PM, Updated: 09-10-10 05:22 PM. Apparently, not attributed to anyone.) Will not write the article here as it is linked above, if you want to read it.

(here is the video ad that this article was talking about. If the video is too large for the column shown to you by your browser, you can, if you have sufficient width space with your monitor, make your browser window wider.)

jefke: Of course polar bears are actually vicious killers which makes the ad a little ridiculous, not that that lessens the gravity of the effect of climate change on the polar bear population.

jabailo (commenting on jefke’s remark): If the ice was melting, wouldn’t the polar bear try and go further north to where its colder…instead of south to where it’s warmer?

GaryNMaine (comment on jabailo’s remark): Surely, you wouldn’t want to make a ‘logical’ argument against this ad? The ad is effective even if the actual facts would not support the animal heading south when crises arise. However, there will be an ending to the polar bears heading north once there is no ice left. But, if the polar bear can quickly adapt, the polar bear might survive. That being said, this type of adaptive capability is not available to mammals of the size of a polar bear. Farewell another endangered-by-man species. We can always read about you in our environmental-studies textbooks if, by then, we haven’t banned education altogether.

That’s about all I could write before the comment stream would shift to page two which, in fact, would make the whole point of commenting moot, since few venture beyond the first page of comments.

Mankind is at its wit’s end on how to deal with critical environmental matters such as climate change and man’s effect on his own environment.

There are people out there, those who own much, and pay so little into preserving this planet, who fight tooth and nail to preserve their financial interests. Why? I don’t know. Maybe they came up in a culture/household where grubbing for every last dime–let no one get in my way–kind of thinking. I am unqualified to analyze anyone’s motivations for the way they live and act. All I know is that the planet needs our help and we still follow the same course where anything that might slow business down is automatically poo pooed.

One day I do see the polar bear going extinct. The environmentalists will be up in arms well in advance of their demise. When the politicians and the corporate leaders finally realize that the environmental scientists were right all along, they will probably finally step in and try to fund projects to move the last polar bears to Antarctica, where the ice is receding, but not completely gone, yet. Being a very expensive endeavor as it most certainly would be, especially with the dwindling supply of fuels (to fuel the ships and move the apparatus forward) to get this done, there will be tremendous uproar from the right.

They would say:

  • Logical: The preservation of the polar bear species would put huge economic burdens on our failing economies.
  • Narcissistic: I got mine, so who cares what might happen in the future.
  • Bad Science: Sunspots are the true cause of climate change, so there is nothing we can do to change our plight.
  • Cynical: Animals have been going extinct throughout the history of this planet–what’s another animal, or two in the whole scheme of things.
  • Ignorant: [whoever they perceive as the Al Gore of their time] is a twit!
  • Party Line: I only vote [whatever party may be representing the interests of the right of their time]! It’s the other party’s fault that things are so bad these days!

You get my meaning. There are always arguments from those who have much too lose from progressing to a more sustainable future. It is, however, amazing how adept they are at getting ignorant people to vote against their own best interests. I mean, it is within most folks interests to see the planet survive for the benefit of future generations.

Essentially, there is only the first argument that has a logical basis. The rest are just cold-hearted, bitter people who have not found a way on Earth to be just ‘plain and simple’ happy. Or, they are simply too ignorant for their own good, and tend to listen to those with the gloomiest of messages.

Since it is impossible to predict politics into the future, it would be safe to say that there are only two directions we can go. The bitterness on the right, and the shock and horror from the left of what has been happening in the last few decades, has left us all in a position where, one way or the other, there will be a sizable shift politically in our near future. Guaranteed.

If we move to the right, this is what might happen:

There turned out to be not enough support for funding on the plans to move the polar bear from the Arctic to Antarctica. Though some funding was established for a certain number of polar bears to be sent to zoos around the world.

If we move to the left, this is what might happen:

Funding was established for the relocation of the polar bears to Antarctica, though environmentalists and left-leaning politicians have voiced concerns that this may very well be ‘too little, too late,’ and they hope to fund future measures to protect endangered species.

Either way, we have lost yet another species due to our lack of political will to make the hard choices. We are already seeing signs that climate change is happening, and some of the signs are alarming. It is more than likely too late for the majestic polar bear. The next time scientists warn of impending doom, we should probably take their claims seriously. Well, that is if we still bother ourselves with science once the shit hits the fan!


Mere Corporate Thuggery, Nothing to Concern Yourself About

A little something I found disturbing, but don’t fret, nothing you need to get worked up about.

U.S. Department of the Interior
Outer Continental Shelf Safety Oversight Board

Report to Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar
September 1, 2010

III. Inspections
D. Management Support (Analysis/Discussion)

• Most inspectors interviewed stated that industry often exerted pressure on them to minimize reporting violations during inspections. For example, personnel on a facility may make comments such as “there goes my bonus,” or “my wife is sick and I’ll lose my job.” Inspectors also reported that if they issued INCs [Incidents of Noncompliance], operators would sometimes call BOEMRE (Bureau of Ocean Energy Management, Regulation and Enforcement) managers and complain about inspector behavior. For example, one inspector, new to the job, reported that on his first day on a platform he issued several INCs, and the company called to complain about his “rude and unprofessional behavior” before he returned to the office.

Reminds me of a familiar-to-all Marlon Brando movie:

(cue the melancholy theme music)

The Oilfather

(two BP employees talking in the lobby)

BP Employee 1: The COO is in an uncommonly good mood today. Hasn’t bitten anyone’s head off yet.
BP Employee 2: Jeez. I thought for sure when Margie forgot to use the green binders for the profit report, he was going to at least humiliate her good. Didn’t happen. I wonder what’s up with him? Must have gotten something special this morning from his girlfriend–couldn’t have gotten it from his wife.

(scene moves to the conference room where the BP Corporate Chief of Operations (COO), Tom (BP attorney and COO confidante), the chief at a Gulf oil rig, and several other BP executives)

BP Rig Chief: That new DOI inspector, Galen Chatterborg, has given the BlueSkyBlueSeasWonderfulPlanet oil drilling rig two INCs citations. (almost mumbling) Son of a bitch.

(in my best Godfather impersonation, ah-hem)

BP Corporate COO (calm, soothing): What do you suggest we do about this?

BP Rig Chief (frantic): We could stage an accident. I was thinking we could create a fake blow out and his dead carcass would be catapulted out to sea.

(The COO appearing a little surprised by the outburst, but delighted with the Chief’s ability to think on his feet)

BP Corporate COO (calm, soothing): I don’t think we need to resort to such harsh measures to deal with Mr. Chatterborg at this point. (pause) Let’s see what we can do from here. You needn’t worry about this matter anymore–we will handle it.

BP Rig Chief (frantic): But–

BP Corporate COO slowly rises to his feet and gestures with his hand that the conversation with the BP Rig Chief is over. A few lesser BP executives are alerted by the COO’s movement that they should ready themselves to escort the BP Rig Chief out of the conference room.

The BP Rig Chief, sheepishly gives the BP Corporate COO a slight tilt of the head in the affirmative, and then leaves the room along with the lesser BP executives.

BP Corporate COO: Tom, we will need to do something about this.

Tom (BP attorney and Chief of Staff to the Big Guy): My staff has done a little preliminary background work on Mr. Chatterborg. He has a new mortgage in New Orleans, two fairly new automobiles, and an older SUV. His wife, Becky, and him have been married for two years, and they have a masculine bun in the oven. He has been with the DOI for about a month, before that, graduated magna cum laude from the University of Michigan in environmental studies and forestry. That is all we have on him at this point. We are trying to find out where his wife works, but have not been able to find this out, yet.


BP Corporate COO: Give this job to Sarah Palin (his secretary and corporate flunky). Have her call Sam Smithers, the BOEMRE manager, and tell them that the new inspector they sent, Galen Chatterborg, exhibited rude and unprofessional behavior when he inspected the BlueSkyBlueSeasWonderfulPlanet oil drilling rig this afternoon. Be sure to tell her not to get carried away–after all, we are not thugs. (pause) He’s a bright boy, he’ll know what he has to do.

(clap, clap, clap, cheer)

Good theatre, but not particularly pleasant from the point of view of the DOI inspector.

. . .

Galen Chatterborg, is a pleasant fellow, just finished up college, with honors too! Worked for the forest service when he was a boy and always wanted to be a forest ranger. Not in the cards, I guess, but he still has hopes of someday becoming a ranger, but this job was what was available at the time and, being a married man with a baby on the way, he had to take what he could get.

Galen’s wife is a pretty girl who he met and married while they were both still in college. They have a child on the way (a boy, but Becky is withholding this from Galen, until their Anniversary, three days from today).

Galen has only been inspecting rigs for the Department of Interior for a month and has inspected three so far. One was an Exxon rig, and the other two were owned by Conoco-Phillips. Pretty clean, he thought, and their maintenance crews were top notch.

Today he inspected a BP oil rig called the BlueSkyBlueSeasWonderfulPlanet rig. Sure, we all know that BP markets itself as the environmental oil company, but we all know that this is far from the truth. BP does their seemingly environmentally conscious marketing just to keep the natives happily confused.

When Galen arrived back at the DOI after the inspection, he was called into his bosses office and told that he was reported for “rude and unprofessional behavior” by some ignorant-sounding woman at BP. Galen told his boss, and several witnesses, everything that had happened at the rig. The violations that he had written up in the two Incidents of Noncompliance citations.

Galen left his bosses office understanding that this was simply a “shot across the bow” by BP, and he shouldn’t be too alarmed about it. But, he does understand, now, how he is expected to do his job. Make waves and the pressure would get much, much worse; or, stop reporting violations and live long and prosper. Remember, at home, you have a beautiful wife who is carrying your child.

No righteous person should ever have to make this choice. So, what will it be–preserving his self respect, or the job. Self respect will not protect his family and their middle-class lifestyle.

The American people should not tolerate their employees being intimidated by corporations who clearly are not working in the best interests of the people of this great nation, nor the people of the world.

Nothing to get worked up about. This is just how some corporations operates these days. What a shameful bunch of thugs.


Interior Painting: The Walls Are Painted Last

I have been painting my bedroom on and off for the last year. Why should such a job take this long? Two reasons: (1) I am very busy and must devote most of my waking hours to business, and (2) I am lazy when it comes to the work that needs to be done around the house.

To stress the point of number two above, we have been here for over four years now–a house that was room-to-room beige and in dire need of paint–and we have only completed a few painting tasks–one upstairs room (office, which is what we use it for, or the third bedroom), the main floor office, and the formal dining room. That is it. The two bedrooms upstairs, one of which is a master bedroom suite, which I occupy, are partially done. The master bedroom suite is only waiting for completion of the walk-in closet–the bathroom and bedroom are completed.

This is really a post on how to paint when you are too lazy to empty a room, and how to get professional results when doing such a project.

When painting a room, or an area, such as the one I will be discussing here, the master bedroom, I almost always choose three colors (usually all on the same color card). For the master bedroom, I chose a muted blue color scheme. The trim is done with a light blue (Under the Big Top), the walls a medium blue/gray (Colonial Blue), and the ceiling dark blue/gray (Hudson Bay). All of the paint purchased was from Benjamin Moore and all are semi gloss. I like the glossy look of semi gloss and gloss paint, though it does require the painter to take special care in order to get a good look.

This suite is in a lovely Cape Cod, with the slant ceiling in the bedroom that follows the contour of the roof. The dark blue/gray color was used on the actual ceiling and the angled ceiling.

The first task in any interior paint job is to patch any problems in the wall surface. In this case, since I had planned on taking my time on this project, the ceiling–since it was first on my list of painting tasks–was all I had to worry over.

Taping light fixtures should be done only on fixtures that cannot be taken down easily. In the case of this room, I had to do the ceilings in the bedroom, the walk-in closet, and the bathroom. The bathroom has a fan/vent that was easy enough to dangle down so I could paint the ceiling including the area under the fan. The walk-in closet, has a ceiling light fixture that was easy to dangle as well. The bedroom has a smoke detector, that was easy to remove temporarily, but the ceiling fan was not, so I taped it.

Now that the room is prepared for painting, I laid out a huge canvas tarp so as not to drip paint on any of my furnishings.

I started first by painting the areas of the ceiling where the ceiling meets the walls. You should not be particularly concerned about carefully cutting in the line between the ceiling and walls, however. Since, you will be painting the walls last, you can cut in that line when you do the walls. Do, however, make sure that you paint the ceiling with some overlap onto the walls.

Also paint a goodly area around the ceiling fan, the bathroom fan, the walk-in closet light fixture, and the smoke detector. This was all done with a 2-inch high-quality paint brush. When I finished doing this trimming of the ceilings, the paint was dry enough for me to start at the beginning and get a second coat on the trim. Sometimes, two coats is enough. In this case, it was.

Upon completion of the ceiling area with the dark paint, the paint brush I used was folded carefully into plastic kitchen wrap so as to be fairly air tight and then put into the freezer. This will keep the paint from drying for an extended period of time–but not forever.

The next process that is needed to be done is the rolling of the paint on the ceiling.

Now that the trim is done, and dry, it is time to paint the entire ceiling with a paint roller. Everyone should know what equipment is needed for this, so I will not add comment about this here. There are plenty of articles discussing this kind of stuff.

What I would like to stress is that, when working with gloss or semi-gloss paint, do not go back over areas where you might have missed a spot (called holidays). Leave it alone as it will be dealt with on the second coat. Try to avoid holidays by being generous with the paint refilling the roller often. Inspect your work as you go and follow a pattern that gets you finished as quickly as possible. The reason I mention leaving holidays for subsequent coats of paint is that glossy paint will leave “textured” areas when you roll over areas that have had a few minutes to set up. This does not look good when the rest of the room is nice and glossy, and that one area, where you overrolled before it had dried, has a inconsistent texture to it that is nearly impossible to make right.

Once you have the ceilings done to your liking, you are ready to do a wall. Why just ‘a’ wall? Several reasons.

  • We are painting this room without the removal of furniture and we will need to jockey the furniture away from the wall we will be painting, and
  • If we short ourselves on the wall paint and need to buy more, if you are cutting in one wall at a time, slight differences in paint color will not be noticeably different.

You will need to clear furniture, wall hangings, and electrical face plates from the wall you will be working on. You should also fill any holes in the wall, blemishes, etc., so that the wall comes out looking nice.

Before you start painting the wall, however, you should paint the trim. This would be baseboards, windowsills, door frames, etc. You needn’t worry about slopping paint onto the walls when doing the trim. Since the walls are painted last, you will be painting over any trim paint that gets onto the walls. In fact, you should make sure that you do overlap onto the walls a bit so that the old color is not left behind when the job is done.

Once you have the trim painted to your liking, it is time to trim up the walls. Now, this is the time to carefully outline the wall color so as to make a nice steady line against the ceiling and the trim. So you trim and roll just as outlined in this post.

Pretty simple. You have the ceiling done, one wall with baseboards and trim done for that one wall. Now, if you have time, you can do another wall. If not, you can put it off until another day. Just remember, your brushes and rollers will not remain moist in the freezer for too long, so you might want to finish your painting tasks and get your brushes cleaned as soon as you can. Six months in the freezer is too long–your paint will have partially dried and will require combing of the brush to remove the paint chunks.

Hope this helps those who paint.


The Wanton Murder of Fresno Bob

Everybody in Gold River knew him as Fresno Bob. Probably because they thought he hailed from Fresno, but I know for a fact that he came in from the James Hill Camp.

The James Hill Camp is a mining community about thirty-five miles due east of Gold River up the rugged Sudsbury Trail. The Camp consists of about 40 tents of various sizes and colors, most of which started out white but became grimy and weathered over time. A few of the tent owners, particularly those who ran businesses out of their tents, had painted the canvas since the settlement was fairly well established and, over time, their appearance had become somewhat unsightly.

Mr. Tittleman, the general store proprietor, even erected a large porch with a business-like facade, with two small windows and a windowed door. Camp folks had to open the door in order to enter his tent store. Unfortunately, during rain storms, a torrent of water cascaded right inside the door that would drench anyone trying to enter.

Mr. Tittleman had a big sign made in San Francisco that he hung above the door that read, “Titleman’s General Store.” Much to Mr. Tittleman’s dismay, the sign-painting company in San Francisco misspelled his name on the sign, but no one seemed to notice, except Mr. Tittleman, who made rather coarse remarks signaling his displeasure over this unforgivable sin.

Except for Mr. Tittleman’s porch and store facade, the jail house was the only other non-canvas structure in the entire camp. It was a wooden building that was constructed the year prior to deal with lawbreakers. Though most of the serious criminals were shipped down to Gold River to face justice, it was not uncommon for camp residents to handle some of the more serious crimes locally.

The deep rope wounds on one of the lower limbs of the great oak tree near the edge of the camp could attest to this. You could also see, on this same lower limb, what would appear to be a railroad spike about six feet out from the trunk of the tree.

As the story goes, the first hanging this tree witnessed did not fare too well. Apparently, when the rope went taut on the lawbreaker being hung on this limb the rope slid down to the bottom of the limb where the man jerked and squirmed for about forty-five minutes resting up against the trunk of the tree with his feet just inches from the ground. You see, the limb was not parallel to the ground. It angled sharply upwards so that the rope would naturally slide down to the bottom of the limb. Hence, the spike. All future hangings, of which there were many, had the rope securely placed above the spike so the hangee would not slip down to the bottom of the limb. After all, if the first person hanged had been just a few inches taller, he might have had to be rehung in order to effect the camp people’s will.

Fresno Bob’s name wasn’t even Bob.

About three years earlier when I first arrived at the James Hill Camp, where he sort of acted as lawman, everybody called him Sheriff Deek. They had even given him a badge to signify his high office, unofficial though it was.

Sheriff Deek McAllister was a very hard man, and a very hard man to like. Everybody said that he was the fastest man with a gun in the entire camp, and pretty accurate too. He had a dark beard, a musty smell about him, and a noticeable limb. I had the privilege of watching him pistol whip a man nearly to death over an imprudent remark he had made to one of the girls at the biggest tent in camp–the Sunrise Saloon.

Now, when he arrived in Gold River, Deek McAllister was not the name he used. He came into Philson’s Saloon and Card Room on the day he arrived. Here, I overheard him telling a town official friend of mine that his name was Bob and that he was just in from Fresno.

My councilman friend replied, “Well, Fresno Bob, let me buy you a whiskey.”

The sobriquet “Fresno Bob,” from that point forward, was the only thing folks around here ever called him.

His appearance had changed since I had seen him last. His beard had grayed some, and he appeared quite a bit older, even though it had only been about two years. But, he seemed to still have his limp, though he seemed to be trying very hard to disguise it. I knew it was him when I moved over closer to him and noticed that musty smell that only he imbued.

I had settled in this town several years ago and I own The Philson Mercantile. I bought it from ole’ man Philson for 1,750 dollars, lock, stock and barrel. His son owns the town saloon that I mentioned earlier. The Philsons seem intent on naming their businesses after themselves, and it seems that the Philson Family own half the businesses in town–The Philson Dress Shop, for the ladies, The Philson Livery, for the horses, The Philson Mining Consortium, which was not a consortium of anyone outside the Philson Family, and the two businesses already mentioned in this story. Except, The Philson Mercantile, which I now own. Maybe I will change the name someday but, for now, it probably helps to keep the name as it is.

Fresno Bob came into the Mercantile a week after he had arrived and bought some cartridges for his pistol and rifle, about a pound of coffee, two pounds of dried beef, and looked wantonly upon a double-barrel shotgun I had up for sale.

He didn’t seem to know me, and I let it rest at that. I was not keen on reminding him that there are people in California who could remember how callous he had behaved when he acted as camp lawman at the James Hill Camp.

Tragically, about ten days ago three men rode into town and unloaded their pistols into Fresno Bob. Needless to say, Fresno Bob did not survive his wounds. They, then, jumped back onto their horses and rode off the same direction they had come.

In my entire life I had never seen such a thing. Sure, I had seen many random gunfights which usually resulted in some man’s death, but I had never seen a man shot dead without having had an opportunity to even defend himself.

Being a respected member of the Gold River community I was asked by the town sheriff to join the posse that was being organized to apprehend these evil men. I accepted. There were nine of us and we set off towards the east, the direction the three men rode off and, not coincidentally, towards the James Hill Camp.

The sheriff of Gold River, who I had thought would be leading our posse, had headed down the road to Dennison with another group of men. So, Clyde Culpepper was deputized to lead our group, since he had the greater experience.

That afternoon we caught up with these three evil men in the James Hill Camp. They were apparently brothers who own a couple of claims along the creek directly south of Camp. Initially, they were aiming to fight it out with us. But, seeing that we had superior numbers and firepower, they decided to surrender peacefully. I was relieved that they made this decision, considering none of our number had ever ridden on a posse before, except Clyde Culpepper. I got the impression from the other members of the posse that they were relieved as well. Except Clyde, who made some rash comments to the men–which I found quite disturbing–for the purpose of goading them into an exchange of something other than their persons.

“Unbuckle your gun belts and slide them this direction you low-life, scum of the earth, murders,” he exclaimed.

The eldest of the three, looked at Clyde, his eyes narrowed, but after a few moments, unbuckled his belt. His two brothers, thankfully, followed his lead. Deputy Culpepper was less thankful.

When we took these three men into custody, it seemed that Clyde Culpepper was itching for a fight from the very beginning of our ride back to town. He taunted the prisoners relentlessly for the entire first hours of the ride, as we all listened without adding to the conversation.

We rode for most of the evening and had to make camp since we took most of the day to get to the James Hill Camp. Most of us had nice beds at home and wanted to push forward, but we were overruled by Deputy Culpepper. In fact, we had all made such a fuss about it, but this seemed to really agitate him so, eventually, we all gave up. Blankets and saddle pillows it would be.

Late that night, I heard Deputy Culpepper, again, taunting our prisoners.

“Fresno Bob was one of the finest citizens of Gold River and you killed him. Won’t take the law long to hang y’all.”

“He deserved all he got,” one of the brothers exclaimed, “he raped and killed one of the saloon girls at the Sunrise.”

“I’ve been to the Sunrise Saloon. Who was it?” the Deputy asked, not totally believing the brother’s story.

“Martha VanPelton.”

“Martha VanPelton,” Culpepper said with a bit of alarm in his voice, “I knew her–she was so young and a lot prettier than the other girls at the Saloon. How do you know it was he who raped and killed Miss VanPelton?”

“She was our sister,” another brother answered hesitantly. “When father died, the family needed the money so she agreed to go to work at the Sunrise Saloon. She was an honorable girl who would not have dishonored our family. Sheriff Deek McAllister, was sweet on Martha and he would not leave her alone. Martha would come home from the Saloon practically in tears complaining to us about his advances.”

Deputy Culpepper continued with his investigation: “Who is this Sheriff Deek McAllister who was sweet on your sister?”

“The man we call Fresno Bob,” I interjected.

Looking surprised, Deputy Culpepper turned to me and said, “What are you talking about?”

“When Fresno Bob came to town I thought I recognized Fresno Bob as the infamous Sheriff Deek McAllister of the James Hill Camp,” I answered.

I relayed to Deputy Culpepper what I knew about Deek and how he had nearly murdered a man for insulting Martha VanPelton when I lived in the James Hill Camp.

Deputy Culpepper listened intently to my story. We both talked for a while with the brothers and got a pretty good picture of what had really happened.

The next day we got back into town in the early afternoon. The Sheriff of Gold River had already arrived back into town and had no luck finding the three murderers.

Neither did we.


We’ve All Been Written Off

September 2, 2020:

Democrat Virg Bernero said Thursday he’ll stop the state from doing business with banks that won’t lend in Michigan if he’s elected governor. Kathy Banks Hoffman, AP

He also said on The Ed Show tonight that, “…the banks have written off Michigan.”

Let me clue you in, Mr. Bernero, the banks have written us all off.